Coward
by DhtrofIsis
Summary: KOTOR one shot.  Revan leaves for the Unknown Regions.  Rated T for brief use of profanity.


I think of all the things I missed about home the worst was the wind. Deralia with its vast plains seemed to have a never-ending supply of air currents. Sometimes the wind was a gentle caress that teased the fine threads of my hair that always escaped containment. Other times the wind would rip through the plains with startling ferocity to cut icy needles through my clothes and rob the breath from my lungs. Here though there was only the constant waft of the air filtration system. Sometimes it felt like I was suffocating from the recycled monotony. It was a whooshing of systematic life so reliable that you could set your chronometer by it. I hated Citadel and honestly I wouldn't miss the station in the least.

A sharp snore from the bed broke my pseudo-meditation. I froze like a thief upon hearing the house residents return hours too early. I turned to watch him and held my breath in fear. When his breathing evened out I let out a shaky sigh as quietly as I could manage in the dark. My heart thudded against my ribcage from the adrenaline rush but I was soon brought down from by disappointment. Maybe a part of me wanted to be caught… no a part of me definitely wanted to be caught. To have him wake and see me packing the last of my things and the inevitable fight that would follow. Maybe it was just that I wanted to see his eyes one last time, even if they were clouded in hurt and anger.

"_Just a few more weeks?"_

Yeah, I was a coward; but I already knew that. I had promised him; unable to deny the pleading tone, the hurt mingled with hope in his eyes. It was the first thing I had noticed about him. The intoxicating color of his eyes like a well aged Correllian whiskey. Well that and that Force-awful orange jacket he insisted on wearing. There was something vulnerable in his eyes completely at odds with everything else. The lines that edged those beautiful eyes and his mouth; the hard cords of muscle that wound through his arms and chest; the defiant and closed posture; all of them warned a person to back off. They told people that this was someone who didn't want and didn't need anyone. Eyes are the windows to the soul? If it's so then his eyes told the story of a man looking desperately for something or someone to believe in. He was looking for hope but afraid of it at the same time and I took him up on the challenge. I told him I'm always up for a good fight and getting him to trust me was one of the tougher ones I can remember. Giving him hope had been a side effect. Loving him had completely blindsided me. After that I just wanted to save him, and then he went and saved me. Silly and sappy but true nonetheless.

I tried to leave a message for him but each time I either broke down crying or deleted it in disgust. How do you break someone's heart? If I had done it in the past it was a memory that had yet to surface. I think that maybe… I wanted to hurt him. I think part of me wanted him to hate me, so it would be easier for him to get on with his life. I was the coward that kept pushing him away out of some masochistic pleasure in self-punishment. My look turned soft. He was the one who always kept pulling me back. Stubborn bantha ass.

I grabbed a small holo off the dresser and rolled a shirt around it. I could conjure the projection from memory but still wanted to take it. Something told me I'd need it in the future as a reminder of better days. As I continued to pull drawers open and retrieve my things in near silence the image stayed at the front of my mind. The holo was a snapshot of Bastila, him and me on Tatooine outside the cave of a krayt dragon. I stood in the middle with an arm over each of their shoulders. All three of us were sweaty, sunburned and grinning like fools. His mouth caught half open in a laugh, Bastila's hair coming out of her pigtails in lovely disarray and my head thrown back in a triumphant smile as I stared a challenge at the holoprojector. We had just defeated Darth Bandon and found the Tatooine Star Map. We were full of euphoria and hope, ready to find the last map and take down the Sith all by ourselves. Pre-Leviathan, before everything had gone to hell. I don't know what had possessed me to make them take the picture with me. Maybe my subconscious or some sort of Force intuition had known it was all about to end. Most days I would give just about anything to go back to that time and place. Back to when things were simple and I was just me.

A low noise came from the bed and once again I froze. He often talked in his sleep and did nothing more than mumble something unintelligible and grab my pillow, cuddling it to his face. I felt pooling tears threaten to break me and swallowed quickly as I looked away and redoubled my packing efforts. I fought the urge to use the Force to keep him asleep, as I had fought similar urges many times before. It would be so easy… just a small thing… but after a few seconds I finally triumphed over the temptation. It was an internal battle every time and I fought it more often than I liked or would ever admit to anyone; even him. He had given me his trust and what seemed such a small act had much darker implications. It was my little test of "How close am I?" So far I had passed every one.

I realized at that point there was nothing left. I had everything I was going to take if not everything I needed. Maybe that's why I wanted the holo. I wanted it to remind me that there was someone in the galaxy who believed in me and believed that I was a good person. To remind me that there was someone somewhere who trusted me not to fail. As I closed my bag I glanced over at his unconscious form. He lay on his left side snuggled against my cooling pillow, one long leg dusted with fine dark hairs thrown over the covers and his mouth slightly parted as he slept. He tended to breathe through his mouth while asleep, probably due to the occasional difficulty breathing from a long healed broken nose. I felt myself waver again as I watched him. What was I doing? How could I just leave?

What can I say? I'm a coward. He could watch me go into battle after battle without ever trying to hold me back. He was simply there watching mine, making sure that my rear was always guarded.

"_Well I am rather fond of it, Beautiful,_" he joked to me once with a rakish grin.

I smiled in response to the memory. I couldn't… _wouldn't_ risk him. I was too scared that something might happen… that something _would_ happen. I know that the future is never set, our choices, out decisions are always morphing it into new possibilities. What I had seen might never well come to pass just for the simple fact that I had seen it, but I couldn't take that chance. Not just for him or even me, but for the galaxy. If I lost him, if I let him die… well I had the impression that my last stroll down the Dark Path would be nothing. I suppose that made the Jedi right; emotional attachments were dangerous.

I glanced around our dark bedroom one last time seeking out anything I had forgotten, delaying the inevitable as long as I could. As I moved to go I accidentally on-purpose almost bumped the corner of the dresser when I lifted my bag but caught myself at the last second. I wanted so badly for him to wake up. I imagined his face bleary and confused when he first saw me, then angry and demanding as he confronted me. Finally pleading and wounded as he begged me to at least let him come with. I saw myself caving and he in response would grab a bag and start stuffing it in a frenzy before I changed my mind.

"_What about your career? The Republic? What about the galaxy?" _I'd ask him

"_This is about the galaxy and the Republic, right?" _he'd say as he shoved clothes into his bag; not wasting time with his normal neatness._ "And screw my career. This promotion has turned me into nothing more than an over paid secretary anyways. You know how I hate the damn paperwork."_ He'd throw on some clothes, his jacket and his blasters and turn to me. In my mind I saw him grab my shoulders as he stared down into my eyes in earnest. _"I'm not losing you. You can't take on everything by yourself. You need help, and dammed if I'm not going with you."_ I imagined he'd kiss me breathless at that point. "_So let's go." _

"_What about Dustil?"_ I'd whisper my last defense.

I pictured he would hunch his shoulders briefly and let out a sad sigh_. "Dustil's all grown up. I love him but he doesn't need me. You do. We've talked a lot about me and his mother; me and him… me and the Fleet. I… I think he'll understand. I'll send him a message later after we're off. I think… I think he'll be okay."_ He sigh and straighten. Throwing me a mischievous look to lighten the mood he'd say; _"Besides someone has to watch your back or you'll do something stupid."_

I'd laugh at that and kiss him back, _"I suppose someone has to do the flying,"_ I'd tease as I tugged at the two hairs that lived perpetually over his forehead.

He'd chuckle and cup my chin. _"Force knows you'd probably never make it out of the system without me."_ This would lead to an old argument on my flying abilities as we stole out the door and into the unknown together.

I squeezed the straps of my bag and closed my eyes in pain. Still I felt a single damp trail work its way down my face. He'd offered to come. He said he wanted to come. I shouldn't take the choice away from him, it was arrogant of me.

I took a step toward the bed, turned slowly and stole like a wraith out the door, forever alone. Damn Malak.

Yeah, I was a coward.

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A/N: As always feedback is appreciated. 


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